


Safe in His Hands

by NaughtyBees



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Bisexual Arthur Morgan, Bonding, Confessions, Drunken Kissing, Fluff, High Honor Arthur Morgan, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Macro/Micro, Secret Crush
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-17 20:02:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29231232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NaughtyBees/pseuds/NaughtyBees
Summary: Kieran has had a crush on Arthur for a while, craving time alone with him. He finally gets his chance after he somehow shrinks and finds himself alone in the wilderness with his favourite cowboy, having to be looked after.
Relationships: Kieran Duffy/Arthur Morgan
Comments: 21
Kudos: 54





	1. Tiny?

It had started so badly. Most things in his life began well and eventually turned to shit, but this was the first time something had initially been terrible but had morphed into something better. Or was it worse? He didn't know. The starvation was terrible, the worst thing he'd experienced, and he still got chills when around rope, still feeling the cut of them on his wrists, the skin slightly marred with ghosts of friction burns.  
Was this more painful than starving? The gnawing emptiness in his belly, the way his ribs stretched his skin into awful shapes, how he bruised at the slightest bump. But this, the feeling in his chest. The longing, the shame, the knowing that he wasn't good enough. 

Arthur Morgan was a beast of a man; compared to the lanky, partway malnourished former O'Driscoll, he was practically a giant. Kieran had seen him do awful things, terrible things. But he'd also seen him be tender. It confused him to no end. He would never have seen members of his former gangs helping chicks back into the nest. They wouldn't have even thought about keeping a stash of candy, just in case someone needed some cheering up.  
The same hand that had crushed a windpipe in front of Kieran not three days before had handed him a small bag of toffee, as one of the cart horses had died not too long ago, and he was more than a little upset about it. 

"O-Oh, for me?" Kieran had sounded as disbelieving as he felt, taking the toffees as though they deserved the reverence of a holy artifact. "Thank you!" 

Arthur had shrugged. "Can't have you mopin' about. We got lots of other horses we need you to look after."

The feeling in his chest, that awful growing ache, had only spread as he tasted the sweetness, crackling across his tongue. Arthur was already halfway across camp before he could try to rope him into a conversation, and he sank back down onto his chair, the candy tasting bitter all of a sudden. 

Kieran had always known. Whereas his friends always went weak at the sight of the heaving cleavage of a working girl, he found his eyes catching on the jean-clad behinds of men, or their strong arms, their square jaws. Despite himself, and his timid nature, it was always the strong ones that ensnared him, those who could hurt him. But those who wouldn't. 

Sure, Arthur had hogtied him. He'd stood back and watched the gang abuse him. But he'd also accepted him, in a way the others hadn't seemed to. The larger man always seemed exhausted when he came back to camp, but he made time to check in with him. 

"Anyone giving you bother?" Arthur had asked one day, sitting beside the scout campfire one misty night. 

Kieran had been chaining cigarettes for a while, and he had offered his half-smoked one to Arthur. "Bill tried to convince Sadie to use me for throwing knife practise. Said a moving target would help."

"You want me to have a word?" He had been so soft, genuine concern on his face. Arthur didn't wholly trust him, he knew that. He knew he probably never would. But the gang was his family, and Kieran was part of that family, no matter how disliked he was. 

He had told Arthur that he didn't want to be a bother, but Arthur just swanned away in Bill's direction, his words lost in the thick foggy gloom. 

"Have a drink with me, Kieran!" Arthur slurred one evening, half a bottle of whiskey in his hand. 

Kieran's heart jumped into his throat, making him feel a little sick, and he could barely squeak out his reply. "Oh, yeah, okay! That would be nice!" 

Arthur blinked blearily, looking around before hiccuping and gesturing with his bottle. "Nah, sorry. Changed my mind." He mumbled, stumbling his way over to annoy Sean. 

Feeling somewhat like a deflated balloon, Kieran sighed as he slumped down against his sleeping rock, the surface smoothed a little by his weeks tossing and turning against it. He didn't blame Arthur. He wouldn't want to have a drink with himself either. It just hurt that he'd brushed him off like that. He was drunk though, and drunk Arthur was a whole lot different than sober Arthur. 

As his eyes fluttered closed, he tried not to think about the dashing cowboy, how easily he killed, how simple he found it to be kind, and mainly how he didn't care who saw when he changed in his open tent. His chest was so wide, and Kieran couldn't help imagining himself leaning against it while falling asleep, safe and secure. 

A loud noise jolted him awake. It was dawn, just a little before he usually woke up. He stretched, resigning himself to beginning his tasks, but not before looking around to see what the ruckus was.  
His blood ran cold. The camp was a distant blur, tents looking like enormous mountain peaks. His sleeping rock, before at sitting height, towered over him like the Grizzlies. Blades of grass seemed to be shoulder height to him. This had to be a dream. It had to be a dream. There was no way it was real. 

The noise, as he came to notice, was the massively shuddering footsteps of Bill Williamson, who had staggered into the bushes for a piss. He looked like a monster, and Kieran could barely breathe as he leapt to his feet, breaking into a sprint. 

If it was real, if he was actually just a few inches tall, he would probably die. He knew that. The only real reason he was kept around was because he was useful. The gang would crush him in an instant. Mouth dry, breath ragged, he looked around frantically for a hiding spot. Spotting a saddle he'd cleaned the day before, he ran toward it, struggling to push the flap of the bag open. His little fingers dug into the leather and he hauled himself into it, exhaling as comforting darkness surrounded him. 

"Okay, alright, you're okay, Kieran…" He whispered to himself. "This is just a dream. Just a dream." He wrapped his arms around himself, tears stinging his eyes as he tried to calm himself with deep breaths. What if it wasn't a dream? What awful, terrible things would the most unsavoury members of the gang do to him? He couldn't help but imagine Micah pinning him with his hand and playing filet until he was nothing but meat. His stomach burned with the need to vomit, but he swallowed it down, closing his eyes. 

He felt secure enough to snooze for a while, until there was a lurch and he squeaked, flailing around and trying to strain his ears to find out what was happening. He heard the buckle of the cinch and realised the saddle was being used. Shit. He couldn't remember whose saddle it was.  
"You leavin', Arthur?" Hosea's voice sounded loud yet far away. 

The rumbling thunder of Arthur's voice beside the bag made Kieran slap his hands over his ears, feeling it in his chest cavity. "It's Tuesday. Gotta tick another one of those animals off that map you gave me."

"Ah. Well, if you get the chance, could you bring me some antler velvet?" 

"Sure." The saddle bag lurched as Arthur mounted, and Kieran pressed himself into the corner of the bag, trying not to panic as hoofbeats jostled him. He was trapped, being taken far away from camp. With Arthur. At his new size. Oh, Jesus. 

It got to the point where Kieran was used to the way he bounced around the bag, three hours of constant riding giving him time to think. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad. Arthur was, apart from Mary-Beth and maybe Hosea, the best person for Kieran to be with. Though he didn't know how he'd cope with the object of his affections being so present, so huge. 

"I took up my position by the keyhole in the door…the keyhole in the door… something something something…something something else…"  
Arthur’s soft singing made Kieran perk up, and he smiled when he realised Arthur was bad at remembering lyrics. The song soothed him, and he tried to relax, feeling the jostling movements soften as the horse began to walk in the snow. 

Sunlight woke Kieran, and he realised he must have been very tired to fall asleep so easily - twice. He blinked to see a hand in the satchel, each finger longer than he was, feeling around for something. He yelped and scrambled as far as he could away from the grasping digits, only to find they moved closer to him. One of the fingertips brushed against his stomach, and they paused, withdrawing for just a moment, before returning with conviction. He tried to push them away as the thumb and forefinger pinched around his legs, but he found they were far too strong, and he cried out, trying to grab anything close to him to attempt to stay in the bag. 

As he was lifted free of the safety of the bag, he was hit by the cold harshness of the snowy mountaintop, shivering with both fear and chill.  
"What the…?" 

He looked up from his upside-down position to see two gargantuan blue eyes fixed on him, wide with disbelief. There was stillness and Kieran hardly dare breathe, his heart hammering in his throat, feeling as though he would pass out at any second with fear, whimpering quietly. Arthur's brows drew together suddenly, his lips thinning. "O'Driscoll?" 

Kieran would've protested his allegiance, were he in a better situation. His voice seemed to have taken a vacation, and he could only stare and shake. Arthur raised his other hand and set Kieran in his palm in a heap, and he quickly righted himself, his head spinning. Arthur's face was close, and he could hardly believe how different he looked. He could see every imperfection in his skin, every hair like a rope, his irises showing tendrils of light colour giving way to deep blackness. 

Backing away, Kieran felt his back bump against the curled fingers behind him, and he pressed into them, trying to be as small as possible. "Pl…Please…" Was all he could choke out, his throat burning and sore. 

"How the hell did you get like this?!" Arthur demanded, and his unchecked volume made Kieran recoil, holding his head and sniffling. "Ah, shit, sorry." He said, a lot quieter. "What were you doing in my bag?"

Kieran pulled his coat tighter around himself, his teeth chattering, barely able to think straight with terror clouding his mind. Arthur seemed to notice his aversion to the cold and he used his log-sized thumb to maneuver him, closing his fingers around his tiny body so just his head and shoulders poked out of his fist. It was a lot warmer like that, surrounded by his rough skin, but Kieran thought about how little pressure it would take to crush him to a pulp. 

"D-Don't hu-hurt me! Please!" He begged, for what seemed to be the fiftieth time in his life. "I wasn't doing nothin', I swear!" 

Arthur smirked a little. "Shrinkin' ain't done too much for your nerves, huh?" He chuckled. "I seen some things in my time, but this is crazy."

Kieran tried to push his way out of Arthur's fist as the large man unloaded things from his horse, but nothing he did could even shift his strong fingers a micrometer. He resigned himself to waiting to see what Arthur would do to him, for daring to invade his bag, for being useless to the gang, perhaps for his past loyalties. 

"I was gonna hunt this white bison I heard about, but I think we'll do that tomorrow." Arthur said softly. "You're in no state to be left alone." He lifted his hat from his head and thrust his hand beneath. Kieran found himself sprawled on Arthur's scalp, watching the light cut off as he replaced his hat. 

Once more in darkness, albeit a little more snug, Kieran let himself breathe. Arthur's hair smelled like woodsmoke, and was soft from a recent visit to the hotel bath. As the large outlaw began to set up his camp, Kieran gripped two handfuls of his hair, clinging tightly as he moved.  
"Probably a good job you're not still back at camp." Arthur said. "Not worth thinkin' about, eh?" 

Kieran still wasn't so sure he was any safer with Arthur. Actually, no, he'd rather be with Arthur than Bill or Micah or Dutch. He took a moment, while 'alone', to burrow his face into the hair below him and imagine, if just for a fleeting moment, that he was cuddling Arthur from behind. How perfect he'd feel, so solid and warm, a change from the unfeeling chill of his rock. 

The movement stilled and Kieran sat up a little, the pink light of evening making him blink as Arthur removed his hat. Kieran couldn't stop the fingers grabbing at him, pulling him from Arthur's head in a flurry of limbs and squeaks. "Careful, don't wanna drop ya." Arthur smiled, holding him in a cupped hand. The fire was crackling away, and Kieran felt the heat wash over him like he was sinking into a hot bath, making him loosen up slightly. "You gonna tell me what happened?" 

Swallowing thickly, Kieran tried to keep his eyes focused on the fire. "I woke up like this." He mumbled. "...Bill was close and I just hid. Didn't know it was your saddle."

"Wish I could just hide away like that." Arthur chuckled, setting Kieran on his knee. "Warm enough there?" 

"I'll be okay." Kieran mumbled through gritted teeth, trying not to let them chatter. He didn’t want to be in Arthur’s fist again, despite how warm it was, and he tried to snuggle into his coat as Arthur rummaged through his satchel. He watched his large hands preparing a rabbit haunch, seasoning it. As it sizzled on the grill, the smell made Kieran’s mouth water and he realised just how hungry he was. Not as hungry as he had been in the past, but he hadn’t had anything since 24 hours prior. Opening a can of strawberries, he set it aside, licking a little juice from his fingers.

Waiting for the meat to cook, Arthur looked down at Kieran, a small smile on his face. “Imagine if you were this tiny when we first found you. I bet you’d have sung Colm’s location like a canary.” He chuckled, reaching down a finger to pet his back. Kieran yelped and jumped to his feet, trying to move away from Arthur’s hand, only to stumble and slip off the edge of his leg. He squeaked when Arthur caught him, holding him gently with curled fingers, in case he tried to jump off again. “Hey, I ain’t gonna do anything to you. I mean, you don’t have any more information, what would be the point?”

Strangely, that didn’t reassure Kieran, but he kept still in Arthur’s palm, despite wanting to run from him. He knew he wouldn’t get far, he’d die of exposure in minutes. That was if an animal didn’t get him first. Arthur set him on the toe of his boot, and Kieran sat with his feet just touching the snow, the fire warming him. Arthur took the meat off the grill and sliced some off for Kieran, passing him it carefully. “Don’t go jumping in the fire to get away from me, O’Driscoll.”

Kieran took the meat, staring at the snow. “I ain’t an O’Driscoll.” He muttered, not loud enough for Arthur to hear. He took a bite of the meat, humming at the flavour, a far cry from Pearson’s slop. He looked up at Arthur in time to see him eat a hunk of meat twice the size of himself, and it made his blood run cold. A stark reminder of how easily Arthur could kill him in possibly the most awful way. 

Arthur noticed his look of fear, and raised a brow. “What?” He asked, mouth full.

“N...Nothing.” Kieran assured, but Arthur kept looking at him, noticing how he tensed at the sound of his swallow. 

“...Oh, yuck, Kieran!” He growled, making a face. “Maybe Bill would eat you, but I wouldn’t. I mean, not just because you always smell of horse shit, but that’s a horrible thing to do.” He shuddered slightly, and Kieran couldn’t help but smile. That put him at ease, despite the insinuation that he stank. 

He licked his fingers when he finished his little piece of meat, and Arthur passed him a sticky chunk of canned strawberry. He purred at the taste, gorging himself on the fruit. His hands and face were sticky when he’d finished and he grumbled, grabbing a handful of snow to wipe himself clean. It only made his chill worse, and he shivered, trying to hold his hands out to the fire.

“Come on, let’s get some sleep.” Arthur said, pinching the back of Kieran’s coat, lifting him and scooting backward into his tent. He dangled like a naughty kitten, wanting to kick his legs but not wanting Arthur to drop him. “Huh. Where can I put you so you won’t turn into a Kieransicle in the night?” He looked for something to wrap him up with, but when he didn’t find anything, he shrugged. “You okay with going under my shirt?”

Kieran couldn’t believe how that question made him feel, heat rising in his cheeks, his stomach turning. He could only nod, lost for words as he imagined how intimate it would be, pressed to Arthur’s bare chest. Using his other hand to lift up his shirt, Arthur pushed Kieran under his clothes and set him between his pecs, removing his hands so he was confined between his many layers and his skin. He could barely think, laid there, almost immediately warmed to his core, Arthur’s heart loud and slow beneath him, booming like a bass drum. He rose and fell with his breaths, which quickly grew deeper and slower as Arthur fell asleep. He took that chance to rub his hands over his skin, feeling so lucky that he was able to be so close to the object of his affections. The thought went through his mind that spending time alone with Arthur might develop into something more, but he quickly dashed the idea; he was small and pathetic usually, now he was even more so. Arthur would simply laugh at him were he to reveal his feelings, or possibly just leave him in the snow to fend for himself. No, better to be safe and keep his crush hidden, as awul and sordid as it was. He wished he could like women, as Mary-Beth clearly liked him a lot. Keeping his affections on the soft curves of a woman rather than the sharp angles of a man always eluded him, and he hated himself for it. As did others, his misplaced stares often caught unwanted violent attention from other members of Colm’s gang.  
Although he was comfortable, he couldn’t sleep. The butterflies in his belly just wouldn’t be quieted, making him feel slightly queasy. It was funny, he would never have been this close to Arthur were he full sized, and for the first time that morning, he was glad he’d shrunk.


	2. Hunting

The whole night, Kieran had been awake. Part of him had considered leaving the warm safety of Arthur's clothes and exploring further, perhaps moving to his face, to memorise every inch of it. However, he'd decided it wasn't worth dying over. So there he stayed, feeling as though he could lay there until he dissolved. All good things had to end, however, and Arthur woke up with a grunt after a while, the muscle beneath Kieran shifting as he moved his hands up to rub his face. 

Kieran was about to greet him when Arthur sat up, and he yelped as he tumbled down his belly, getting stuck between his tight clothes and the little bit of pudge just below his bellybutton. It was so soft, and he tried not to enjoy it as much as he was.  
"Oh yeah, sorry, I forgot about you." Arthur chuckled, his stomach heaving with his laugh as he reached under his shirt to retrieve Kieran. "Hope I didn't jostle you too much." 

He'd almost forgotten how terrifying it was to be under his scrutiny, his limbs quivering as Arthur yawned slightly. "G-Good morning, sir." Kieran said, trying not to look at him. 

"Kieran, you slept on me last night, you can call me 'Arthur'." He mumbled as he climbed from his tent, stretching a little. "Were ya warm enough?" 

"Oh, uh, yeah, I was. Thanks." Kieran tried to sound as sincere as he was, but his voice wavered slightly. Arthur slipped him into the breast pocket of his jacket, and Kieran stood up, peeking out as he watched him dismantle his camp. "You hunting that white bison today then?" 

"Yeah." Arthur said as he rolled up the tent. "Trapper should make it into something nice for me. I mean, this coat used to be a huge wolf." 

The thought of Arthur battling a giant wolf was both concerning and slightly arousing as Kieran thought about how strong he was. And how brave. He could never do anything like that. Hell, he could barely even talk to members of his own gang, let alone hunt down massive beasts. 

Once the camp was packed away, Arthur mounted his horse and continued along the trail, glancing at Kieran every now and again. "You keepin' a lookout, O'Driscoll?" 

Kieran gave a heavy sigh and closed his eyes. "I wish you'd all stop that."

"Stop what?" Arthur asked, raising an eyebrow. 

"Just…I never wanted to be with those bastards." He hissed, the hate for Colm clear in his voice. "The gang I was runnin' with before was a good fit for me, but when the O'Driscolls killed everyone and said I either join or die…well…" He trailed off a little when he remembered his precarious situation, sinking into the pocket. "You capturing me was probably the best thing that's happened to me in a long while. Sure, everyone hates me, but I don't care really. I'm sorta happy with you guys. At least you care about me just a little."

Arthur was quiet for a moment, but soon spoke up again, his voice rumbling through Kieran. "We don't hate you." He began, raising a hand up to brush against the lump in his pocket, causing Kieran to jump. "I know Hosea and the girls like you. Especially Mary-Beth." He smiled a little. "Think you might be able to worm your way into a little puppy love there."

"Nah, I'm…" He stopped himself, his heart skipping a beat. "I, uh… got my eye on someone."

"Oh, yeah?" Arthur prompted, but when Kieran didn't elaborate, he kept prodding. "Someone in camp?" 

Kieran felt pale, taking a breath to steady himself. "Yeah…"

Arthur thought for a moment. "You gonna gimme any hints? Or do I have to guess?" 

"I-I-I…" His mouth felt dry and he looked up at the sliver of light beaming into the pocket, seeing the scruffy underside of Arthur's chin. "W-Well, they're kind. Sometimes, anyway. Really good looking. Bad singer but real creative. Eyes like being home…"

Laughing softly, Arthur gave his pocket a gentle pat. "Looks like yer in deep there, O'Dr--... Mr Duffy."

The fact that Arthur had caught and corrected himself made his chest burn with affection, and he pressed the back of his head against Arthur's chest, listening to his heartbeat.  
"Is it Tilly?" 

"No. Can…can we talk about something else?" Kieran asked, not wanting Arthur to go through all the girls one by one only to find out Kieran's secret. 

Arthur nodded. "Sure, uh… Oh, I heard there's a horse somewhere near here. White Arabian. Don't suppose you'd help me catch it?" 

Kieran perked up and stood, peeking out of the pocket. "Oh, yes please! I'd love that!" There was nothing he liked more than horses. 

Once they reached the bison's territory, Arthur tethered his black shire, Bruce, to a tree and lifted Kieran from his pocket. "Gonna leave you here so I don't deafen you with my rifle." He pulled his bandana out and wrapped it around Kieran to keep him warm, tucking him into the saddle bag. "Sit tight."

Kieran was a little sad that he wouldn't be able to watch Arthur hunting, but he supposed it made sense. He didn't fancy hearing a gunshot at his current size, so he curled into the bandana, enjoying how it smelled of Arthur, and felt around for some food. When he found some bread and cheese, he broke off a piece of each and nibbled it as he waited, trying not to think that he was more mouse than man. 

He heard the distant crack of a gun, then another, and a final third. He would've liked to have seen the white bison for himself, but it didn't matter really. Honestly, he was just glad he wasn't in camp anymore. 

Footsteps crunched through the snow, and Kieran perked up as the saddle shook from the weight of the pelt, seeing Arthur's hand once more. He held his thumb as he was lifted free, still wrapped up warm as he was transferred into his pocket once more. "Alrighty. Let's see if we can't find this horse."

Leaving Bruce, Arthur began to trudge around the other side of the lake, walking on the ice where it was thick enough, and he soon paused when he saw tracks, leaning down for a closer look. "Yep, it's been here." He said, following the hoof prints in the snow. Kieran's limited distance vision meant he probably wouldn't spot it before Arthur, but he didn't doubt the gunslinger's quick eyes, and was more focused on helping him actually get close enough to it. 

Finally, almost invisible against the snow, Arthur saw the mare, and he smiled as he looked at Kieran. "Lemme know if you have any pointers. I'm gonna try get close to her."

"Let her know you're here." Kieran said. "If you creep up, she'll bolt."

"Hey, girl!" Arthur called, his voice low and quivering like a horse nicker, and the mare looked at him, throwing her head anxiously as he approached. "Easy, easy, it's okay…"

Kieran watched her, telling Arthur to pause when she looked more skittish, pressing him on when she seemed to be interested in him. "Don't mount her right away." He said. "Let her sniff you. Or give her a treat. That way she won't immediately associate you with bad things."

Arthur did as he was told, his movements slow and methodical, her nostrils flaring as he offered her his hand. However, she seemed to not like it, her ears flattening, throwing her head back. Before she could run off, Arthur all but leapt onto her, grabbing handfuls of her mane as he tried to keep from being knocked off. Kieran squeaked and braced his limbs against the sides of the pocket to stop himself being thrown out, the bucking of the horse making him feel sick and dizzy.  
"I thought you were going to give her a treat!" 

"I was!" Arthur grit his teeth as he squeezed her sides with his legs, steering her this way and that, keeping steady on her as she kicked out with a frightened whinny. "She smelled something she didn't like!" 

Kieran felt as though he was about to puke when she finally exhausted herself, panting heavily as she slowed her bucking to an antsy pawing and nodding.  
"Oh, thank god…" He took a breath, swallowing hard. "...Oh. I think she…I-I think she smelled my fear."

Arthur looped his rope around her, tying a makeshift halter as he tried to spur her over to Bruce, who was nosing through the snow in search of grass. "What have you got to be afraid of? You love horses."

His voice cracked slightly when he replied, trying to curl into a ball in the pocket's corner. "W-Well, you could just… splat me if I say something wrong. Doesn't inspire me with confidence."

There was a pause, before Arthur laughed quietly. "It's true, I could. But I ain't gonna. I mean…" He was quiet for a moment, and from Kieran's position, he could see his brows knitted together. "For all my jokey threats, I'm glad you're with me."

Kieran's heart fluttered, his cheeks warming as he rose to peer out, looking up at Arthur. He couldn't tell if his face was red from cold or embarrassment. "I'm glad too." He smiled. "Still scared though."

"I would be too. Can't be easy." He said as he dismounted the mare, tying her to the Bruce's saddle. The pair of horses greeted one another with sniffs, and Arthur smiled as he mounted the shire, giving him a pat before turning him to ride toward a cabin he knew about. "We'll stay out here another day. I know you're probably dreading going back to camp."

"God… You're gonna have to help me. I don't wanna be left alone. What if…" Kieran trailed off. He couldn't stomach thinking about it. 

Arthur nodded. "Yeah, we'll tell Hosea first. He'll lay down the law. You know how he is." 

"I really like him." Kieran smiled. "He raised you, didn't he? He and Dutch?" 

"Mhm. Hosea did the fathery thing, Dutch took care of the criminal thing. Apart from teaching me to read, Dutch did that too."

"Wonder if he'd teach me to read?" Kieran wondered aloud, thinking about all the things he could learn from books. 

Arthur shrugged. "I mean, I could take a crack at it. When I'm not busy, that is."

"Oh, would you?" Kieran asked with a grin. "That would be amazing, Arthur, thank you!" 

"Calm down there." He snickered, hitching his horse outside the cabin. It wasn't too shabby, the roof and walls intact, seeming like a good place to hole up. "Man, I want a coffee. How's about we relax a bit and I'll give you a little crash course in the alphabet?"

Kieran tried to not sound as enthusiastic as he felt as Arthur walked into the cabin, beginning to light the fire. Soon, the little building began to warm up, and Arthur seated himself by the fireplace, pulling out his journal and turning to the back page. Kieran watched as he drew shapes, leaving gaps between them, and he soon finished, lifting the page up so Kieran could see. 

It took him a while, about ninety minutes, but he was soon able to name every capital letter, not without a little difficulty.  
"Right, that's pretty good." Arthur said with a smile. "Now, I want you to spell your name."

Kieran felt a little daunted, but he swallowed his anxiety and screwed up his face in concentration. "K… E… R… U...N?"

Arthur smiled and wrote down the letters slowly. "K-I-E-R-A-N. Kieran. I and E together make an 'ea' noise."

"Well, that's dumb." 

"Yeah, Javier hates English spellings." He smirked. "C'mon, try to spell something else." He said, taking a sip of coffee. 

Kieran thought for a moment. "A…R...F...U...R?"

"T and H make the 'thh' sound. But good effort!" 

"Ugh!" Kieran threw up his hands. "And I bet R and Z make the 'oo' noise too?!" 

That made Arthur laugh, and he shook his head. He turned to a page in his journal where he'd written in block capitals and gestured to it with his pencil. "Read this."

"...We...West?"

"Oh, you're a natural." He smiled, pulling Kieran from his pocket. "We'll take a break for now. Don't want you getting a headache." He placed him on the fireplace and licked the tip of his pencil, beginning to sketch on a new page. 

Kieran found a chunk of wood, the end burnt, and began to draw out letters on the stone as best he could. H-O-R-S. G-U-N. S-N-O-W. He looked up at Arthur. "How do you make a 'sh'?" 

"S and H."

Nodding, he went back to it. S-H-I-T. F-U-K. 

"Are you writing swears?" 

Flushing slightly, halfway through writing 'dick', he smiled up at Arthur. "Wouldn't you?" 

Arthur snickered. "I did, yeah. Dutch was none too pleased, but Hosea found it funny. Then he taught me whole new swears to write."

Kieran paused for a moment, watching Arthur sketch. "What, uh… what you drawin'?" 

"Nothin' that concerns you." Arthur said in a low voice that sent a shiver of fear up Kieran's spine. 

"S-Sorry. I won't ask again." He mumbled, using his charcoal to doodle a stick figure horse, trying to spell out 'Branwen' but making it look like someone had sneezed in a dictionary. "...I don't know anyone who draws, 'side from you. Y'must be real smart to be able to write, draw, and do everything else."

Arthur scoffed. "It ain't bein' smart. I'm probably the third most stupid member of the gang."

Kieran frowned a little. "I don't think so."

"Ah, well, you don't know me all too well."

There was a comfortable silence, aside from the crackle of the fire and the noise of pencil on paper, before Arthur sighed softly. "You wanna come with me while I hunt us some food?" He asked, snapping his journal closed. 

Standing, Kieran nodded. "Sure! You not worried about your gun being too loud?" 

"Nah, I'll use my bow. C'mon." He scooped Kieran up carefully, and used two fingers to straighten his little hat, something that Kieran found immensely endearing. His pocket was cosy, and Kieran was beginning to find it his second favourite mode of transport, after Branwen.  
Stepping into the snow, Arthur retrieved his bow and some arrows from his saddle, then set off walking. "What are you in the mood for? Venison? Rabbit? Maybe mutton?" 

After a moment, Kieran simply shrugged. "Whatever's easier. Food is food. Kinda learnt to appreciate it, no matter what it is."

Arthur scratched the back of his neck and thinned his lips. "I'm, uh… I'm sorry about that. I mean, you could've just told us and that could'a been that, but…ah, y'know."

Kieran knew Arthur wasn't good with words, but he appreciated the sentiment. "Wish I'd known then what I do now. I mean, if Colm wants information, he tortures it outta you, then kills you. I was sure y'all would've done the same."

"Well, might'a done if you hadn't saved my life." Arthur chuckled. "Still might."

"Arthur, c'mon." Kieran tried to sound scolding, but it came out as a squeaky whimper. He cleared his throat and overcompensated by making his voice as deep as he could. "Thought we were friends."

Arthur shushed him to look at some tracks, and Kieran was only half sure that he actually needed him to be quiet. He crouched low as he followed the tracks, notching an arrow, and Kieran stayed silent as he scanned the area, looking for prey.  
A doe was stood by the water, bending to drink, and Arthur rested on one knee, pulling back his bowstring. Kieran was quiet and still as he took a deep breath, letting his arrow fly. The doe fell with a single shot through her neck, and he whooped, clapping his hands.  
"I never knew you could use a bow."

"Yeah, Charles taught me. Been practicing." He said as he walked toward the deer, shouldering his bow. He took out his knife to butcher his kill, but a noise to his left made him tense and he turned. There, emerging from the thick tree growth, was an enormous grizzly. 

Kieran whimpered, sinking into the pocket. "A-Arthur! Run!" He cried. 

Arthur steeled himself, holding his knife tightly as the grizzly bellowed at him and began to charge. Kieran wailed with terror, trying to get Arthur to flee, but he stood his ground, the grizzly getting closer and closer. It stopped a mere five feet from him and opened its mouth, roaring savagely, teeth glinting in the afternoon light, drool flying out and peppering Arthur's clothes. Then, the beast huffed and simply turned, stalking away back into the trees. 

Kieran panted heavily, making unintelligible squeak noises, his body rushing with adrenaline. His eyes rolled back and he slumped in a heap at the bottom of Arthur's pocket, the immense feeling of fear making him black out. 

He awoke to the smell of cooking, and he sat upright, patting himself to check he was still alright. He was, aside from being tiny still, and he looked around. Arthur had tucked him up in one of his gloves and put him by the fireplace, and Kieran watched as he cooked the venison, catching his eye. 

"You okay, O'Dr-- Kieran?" He asked, turning the meat over with the tip of his knife. 

Kieran shuddered as he wrapped his arms around himself. "How…the fuck…did you manage that?!" He asked, breathless. 

"You don't run from a bear." Arthur said simply. 

"God, you must be the bravest man in the world."

Arthur chuckled. "Nah. Just stupid."

Kieran was about to argue as he slipped from the glove, standing on shaky legs, but realised with an awful sinking feeling in his gut that he was naked from the waist down. He yelped and covered himself, wrapping his coat around his waist. "What the fuck?!" 

"Oh, yeah, you pissed my pocket." Arthur laughed and reached for the tiny pair of trousers by the fire, feeling them. "I washed 'em for you." He said, passing them over to Kieran.

The tiny man quickly pulled them on, feeling like he was the colour of beetroot, and he covered his face with his hands, embarrassment overcoming him. "I-I'm sorry. God, I'm pathetic…"

He said, pulling the meat from the fire and putting it on a plate. "Nah, you ain't. And it ain't the first time I've been pissed on by some frightened little bastard, so you're okay."

Kieran nodded, accepting the meat Arthur gave him. "Good to know…" He mumbled. They sat and ate in silence, Arthur finishing before Kieran, and pulling out his journal to sketch some more. 

What Kieran wouldn't give for a peek. He wouldn't be able to read it, especially not since he only really understood phonetically spelt block capitals, but the thought that his likeness might be in there made his heart flutter. He wished he could see, but he knew Arthur would never let him peruse it. Hell, even his closest friends couldn't see inside it. And Kieran knew he wasn't Arthur's friend, he never would be. Arthur would never view him as any more than an annoyance.


	3. Back to Camp

Kieran sat on Arthur's pillow as he slept on his side, twiddling his thumbs. His chest was as wide as a field, the expanse of it towering over him like a building. Being there, so close to his face, it made him want to get closer, to touch him, to feel how rough his lips were. He wanted to wrap his arms around his nose and pepper his cheeks with little kisses, to make him feel loved. The way he talked about himself always made him sad, and he wished he could let him know he had someone in his corner. 

Shuffling closer, Kieran's hair and clothes were ruffled by his slow breaths, and he gave the tip of his nose an experimental pat to make sure he was asleep. When he didn't react, he placed a hand on his lower lip, rubbing over his chapped skin, his heart fluttering as he imagined them pressing against him. Even when they were the size of a sofa, they'd be so perfect against him, covering his entire body. He pressed his palm into his plush flesh, wanting to lean close, to snuggle into them. 

"What are you doing?" 

Kieran yelped as Arthur spoke, leaping back and tumbling down the pillow, landing in an embarrassed heap on the mattress. "I-I, uh, I thought you were asleep!" 

Arthur moved to rest on his elbow. "No, I was just thinkin'. Why were you touching my face?" 

"I… I-I…" He took a breath, his face burning. "I need a pee? And I can't get down on my own?" He didn't sound sure about his excuse, but Arthur didn't seem to pick up on it. He lifted Kieran to the ground, then laid back down. 

"Next time, just shout in my ear." He mumbled tiredly as Kieran walked under the bed. "Don't piss anywhere I'll step in." 

Kieran sank down to sit, exhaling and closing his eyes. He groaned quietly as he rubbed his face. He was such an idiot. Shame made his face burn and he wanted to just sink into the floor and disappear. 

His embarrassment stayed with him even as they rode back to camp the next morning, staying quiet as he hid in Arthur's pocket. The white arabian seemed to have settled nicely into being ridden, and Bruce plodded along behind, happy to follow.   
"What should I call her?" Arthur asked, breaking the silence. 

Kieran thought for a moment. "How about Daisy?" 

"That's cute. Yeah, she suits being Daisy." He gave her a pat, then reached into his bag for a carrot, feeding it to her. "If and when you're regular again…would you like her?" 

Kieran blinked and peered out at Arthur, studying his face to see if he was serious or not. "Really?" 

"Yeah. I mean, Bruce is my boy, I don't think I'll ride her all that much." He shrugged. "Besides, you helped me catch her."

"Th-Thank you!" Kieran stuttered out, grinning. "Oh, thank you!" He'd never had a gift as amazing as that, and he couldn't stop thinking about how he could gain her trust, and how freeing it would be to ride her across the plains. 

Arthur was glad to get back to camp, though before he even got to the hitching post, Mary-Beth jogged toward him, flagging him down.   
"Arthur! Arthur, have you seen Kieran? He's been missing for three days! I'm really worried!" 

Arthur dismounted Daisy. "Yeah, he's been with me." He noticed her looking around with slight panic, but simply beckoned her around the back of a large tree. She followed and he took a breath. "He's - somehow, don't ask me how - shrunk."

She frowned a little, unable to tell if he was joking or not. "What, like, tiny?" She asked. 

Arthur nodded and patted his pocket gently. "You okay with coming out?" He asked softly. 

Kieran was a lot more comfortable with Mary-Beth than anyone else, and he peered out of the pocket, looking at her with wide eyes. Her mouth dropped open, and she looked between the two men with shock.   
"Hey." Kieran waved. "I'm okay, I'm not hurt or anything."

"Christ…" She slowly reached for him, and lifted him into her palms. They were so much softer than Arthur's and he relaxed into them. "You must be so scared…" She cooed, giving his back a gentle pet. 

"Nah, I'm used to it." He leant into her fingertip, smiling a little. "Had a good time with Arthur. He gave me the horse we caught."

Mary-Beth glanced at Daisy with a small smile. "So he looked after you?" 

Kieran nodded. "Yeah. He kept me safe."

She leant close to Arthur and pecked his cheek, and he gave a sheepish look, touching his face with a flush. "Thank you, Arthur. I know most of the boys would've been awful."

"Well… you're welcome, I guess." He scratched the back of his neck and looked toward camp. "I got somethin' to do before I tell Hosea about this, I'll make sure Susan doesn't come lookin'." 

Mary-Beth nodded and sat on a rock, holding Kieran close as Arthur walked away. She was a little breathless looking at him, and he felt totally secure with her, knowing she wouldn't hurt him.  
"Can I, uh… Can I ask you something? In confidence?" 

"Oh, of course you can. Are you alright?" She asked, lifting him close to her face. 

Kieran tried to piece his thoughts together, his hands shaking a little. "Do you think it's wrong to be queer?" 

Tilting her head, she raised an eyebrow. "No, of course not. It's pretty natural, I think. My friend had some male ducks that were paired." She gave him a look, smiling slightly. "Why do you ask?" 

"I think you can guess." He ran a hand through his hair, sighing heavily. "And…well, I really like Arthur. But I don't know if I can do anything about it. I mean, I keep picturing him just crushing me for daring to like him like that." He hung his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I'm sorry… I'm being an idiot."

Mary-Beth lifted him close, her lips grazing against his shoulder, making him go pink. "I think you should tell him. He's a good man, and honestly, I think he'd appreciate the sentiment, even if he doesn't reciprocate. He's not an asshole, he wouldn't judge someone for their preferences."

Kieran nodded. "Thank you, Mary-Beth. Really." He took hold of her thumb, squeezing it with both hands. "I dunno what I'd do without you."

The pair spotted Hosea when they were chatting, and he paused with a look of shock. "Well, that's ten dollars I won't get back." He muttered, taking a knee beside Mary-Beth. "This is impossible…"

Arthur appeared at the other side, folding his arms over his chest. "What should we do?" 

Hosea shook his head. "I'm not sure. Are you okay there, Mr Duffy? No ill effects?" 

Kieran shrugged. "Don't think so. And I can't think what happened. I haven't eaten or drunk anything out of the ordinary."

"Any contact with something not usually in camp? It could be a disease." Hosea asked. 

Thinking for a moment, Kieran suddenly remembered something. "I did find what I thought was a mouse. I killed it before it could get into the food, but it looked more like a bear. Thought I was going round the twist."

Hosea nodded. "In that case, I can only assume it will wear off. It's just a matter of making sure you don't come to any harm until then."

Mary-Beth gave Kieran a side-eye, then looked at Hosea. "How about Arthur taking Kieran with him? He can go do whatever it is he does, and keep him away from some of the…" 

"...more undesirable people." Hosea finished for her. "Yes, I think that's a good idea."

Arthur sighed heavily. "Landin' me with babysitting?" 

"I don't complain when I have to take you places." Hosea smirked, standing up with a pained grunt. "Just go tick something else off your animal map."

Kieran was a little put out at how miffed Arthur seemed, and as he went to gather his things, he looked at Mary-Beth. "I don't know if I can do it."

"I can't make you, but I think you should. Trust me, it'll be okay." 

He wasn't sure, but he supposed it wouldn't hurt to try. Unless it did, and he ended up as a stain on Arthur's hand. Which, honestly, would hurt less than being scorned for simply being in love.


	4. Finding the Fox

Kieran spent the whole ride over toward Mattock Pond thinking about what he might say to Arthur. Every scenario that passed through his mind ended badly, but he supposed he had to put faith in Arthur’s good side, rather than expecting him to respond with anger. He didn’t know what he wanted from his confession, as he knew Arthur wouldn’t reciprocate, but he guessed it wouldn’t hurt to try. As they rode across wide, empty fields, Arthur let Kieran sit on his shoulder, holding onto his hair, beside his ear so he didn’t have to shout to talk to him.

“Mary-Beth was real worried about you.” Arthur gave him a little side glance with a smile. “I’m sure she likes you.”

Kieran sighed softly. “Just as a friend. She knows I’m not interested.”

“I think you’d make a good pair.” He seemed to be wanting to fix Kieran up with someone at least. Perhaps because he saw how sad and lonely Kieran looked sometimes. Always on his own.

Taking a deep breath and squeezing his eyes tightly, Kieran clenched his teeth. “I like men.” He said in a voice that would’ve been too quiet to hear were he not directly beside Arthur.

“Oh!” Arthur sounded surprised. “Oh, well, that’s okay. I can see why you were worried about telling me who you like now.” 

Kieran nodded, knowing it wasn’t the whole reason for his secrecy about it. “You folks seem to be pretty accepting, but you never know. I mean, I ain’t been treated well in my life, didn’t want to give y’all another reason.”

“Nah, you’re okay. I mean, I think we have a few queer types in the gang. Dutch and Hosea had something going on before Hosea met Bessie.” Arthur explained.

Kieran was a little surprised to hear that, but relieved, and settled against Arthur's neck as Bruce made his way down the steep slope of the hill. "I just wanted to say thank you." He muttered, rubbing his palms over his legs. "For takin' care of me, and teachin' me the alphabet, and all that."

"Yeah, sure." His voice rumbled deep in Kieran's skull. "Honestly, you're probably the least annoyin' of that lot. Sure, you can be a timid little shit, but you don't constantly pester me. And you actually shut up if I tell you to."

The backhanded compliments were a lot more refreshing than insults, and he smiled. "Thank you. I'm glad you've stopped scaring me for fun like you used to." In truth, knowing that Arthur was gentle and caring when he wanted to be, his threats were less scary and more…hot, for want of a better term.

"Could still pulverise you, boy." Arthur growled, but Kieran could see the smile at the corners of his mouth. 

As the afternoon approached, Arthur spent a while looking for any sign of that fox Hosea had directed him to, but for all his eagle-eyed scrutiny and hunting tools, he couldn't spot a thing. "Maybe the map is wrong…" He mumbled. "Shame, I'd have liked to have a fancy new hat."

"Maybe you could lay down some bait?" Kieran suggested, having become bored, a lock of Arthur's hair tucked under his nose as a moustache. "Or wait until he's hunting himself?" 

"Eh, that won't be until dusk." Arthur mumbled, scratching his chin. "We can wait 'til then." He sat himself at the base of a tree and opened his satchel. Kieran watched Bruce nosing around in the dirt, before he whickered and flopped onto his side with a thump, trying to roll but finding it hard with the saddle on his back. Still, he enjoyed himself, and Kieran couldn't help but grin. 

Arthur found what he was looking for, pulling a bottle from his satchel and setting Kieran on his knee. "You want a little rum? Make the day go quicker?" 

Kieran shrugged. "Sure, why not? Just a little though, I don't think I'd be able to keep up with you like this."

Dextrous fingers filled a bottle cap with rum for Kieran, then Arthur took a deep swig, humming when he wiped his mouth. "Right, drink up, let's do some more reading." He said as he retrieved his journal, opening it and turning to the back page. 

The alphabet was difficult to remember, but Kieran only needed to be corrected with B and D, since they looked and sounded alike. Arthur had him spell a few words, most of which he got wrong, but the phonetically spelt ones were easy.  
"I wanna try a long word." Kieran said, his head buzzing a little from the rum. 

"I got one already down." Arthur flipped through the pages and the double spread sketch he landed on made Kieran's eyes boggle. He felt as though he were standing on the bustling streets of the cattle town, the drawing so detailed and beautiful. "You can probably guess this one, since the sketch gives a clue."

Kieran made an effort to read the word rather than stare at the sketch, but he ended up just breathing 'Valentine' with a look of awe. "That's… I mean I never…" He tore his eyes away to smile up at Arthur. "You got talent, Mister."

"Naw, it's just doodles. Normally don't show 'em to anyone." Kieran's face burned as he realised how privileged that made him. He'd seen Arthur's art. It was like seeing his soul. 

Clearing his throat, he sucked a breath through his teeth. "Have you drawn me?"  
When Arthur nodded, Kieran crossed his fingers for his next question. "Can I see? I-It's okay if not, I don't wanna pry, I mean, this is your private journal and I--" 

"Just one." Arthur grumbled, thumbing through the pages before showing Kieran the sketch with a lump of text on the opposite page. 

The drawing showed Kieran sat cross-legged in Arthur's hand, his expression one of anxiety as thick fingers curled overhead. "Oh wow…Amazing." He breathed, reaching out to touch the pencil rendition of his own face. "What, uh… What does it say?" 

Arthur nipped off the long drink he was taking from the rum to reply. "Normally wouldn't let anyone read it but… Ah, fuck it." He sounded drunk already and the tiny man was appreciative, liking how loose Arthur was being with his precious journal. "It says 'Kieran got tiny somehow, and I accidentally took him hunting. Poor kid, as if his nerves weren't shot enough, I'd be shitting myself if I had to be out in the wilds with an ugly, mean giant. Hopefully he'll be normal soon and I won't have to babysit him.'"

"You really don't like having me around." Kieran mumbled, not liking being compared to a child. 

Arthur waved his hand as he closed his journal, grabbing the rum again. "Nah, it's actually been pretty good." He slurred. "Got a lil' pocket buddy." He fished around for some food and pulled out some jerky, using his knife to slice chunks off. 

Kieran loved the idea of that being permanent, always close to Arthur's heart, but he knew it would cause more problems than it solved. 

“So, about yer man crush, who is it then? Charles? If it is, I can see why. I mean, I would.” Arthur brought the topic up again, making him flinch. 

Arthur was drunk, but did that mean it would be better or worse to confess his feelings? The words were on the back of his tongue, but he couldn’t force them out, his mouth dry. He just couldn’t. “...You like Charles?” Kieran asked, trying to steer the subject away, ignoring the jealousy rising in his chest.

“Who doesn’t like Charles?” Arthur chuckled quietly. “Although I only been with women, I dunno, I guess I like both. Not thought about it all too much before.”

Hope bloomed in Kieran’s heart and he felt as though he might burst. He had a chance. A minute chance, but a chance all the same. Arthur was so perfect, strong and caring, ruthless and kind, and he adored him.  
“It’s not Uncle, is it? Man, that would be hilarious. Imagine liking _that_.” He laughed, passing Kieran some of the meat. 

“No, it isn’t.” Kieran muttered. He didn’t feel hungry, just picking at the jerky with a small frown.

“I can’t think of anyone who ain’t attached already. Unless you’re lookin’ to be someone’s affair.” Arthur said through his mouthful. “Maybe Sean? You guys did seem to hit it off after you told him about yer past and everythin’. Y’know, after he stopped being a dick.”

“It’s you.” Kieran said, his stomach twisting in terrible ways, his eyes stinging. He felt cold, despite the humidity of the afternoon.

“Is it Lenny? I think maybe you and him c-- wait, what?” Arthur blinked at Kieran. There was a pause so pregnant that it was almost a third person in the conversation. He then began to laugh, his eyes crinkly, shaking his head. “Sorry, I gotta get my ears cleaned, I just thought you said you liked _me_!” 

Kieran balled his fists. “I did.” He said, looking anywhere but Arthur. “Pl-Please don’t hurt me, but you’re j-just so wonderful. Mary-Beth said to tell you but…” Nausea pooled in his gut and he put his head in his hands, wiping at his eyes.

Arthur was silent for a moment, and Kieran heard the loud bristle of fingernails through facial hair. “...Right.” He said finally. “Even though I tied you up and everything?”

“Of course. You’ve treated me right since I became part of the gang.” Kieran sniffled. “I’ll understand if you hate me.”

“I don’t hate you, you silly little thing.” Kieran felt the soft weight of Arthur’s fingers at his back, warm and comforting, his thumb stroking over his hair. “Just a bit unexpected, is all. Especially since I’m an ugly bastard.”

Kieran sat up, looking at Arthur with a frown. "You're not!" He shouted, surprising himself. "I-I mean… You are really handsome. All the time."

Arthur pulled his hat over his eyes to hide the red burning in his cheeks. "Well, ah… Thanks, I guess."

With a heavy sigh, Kieran pushed at Arthur's fingers and slipped down the side of his leg, hitting the ground with a thump. He ignored the twinge in his ankle, scrubbing at his damp eyes. "I won't mention it again. I know I'm not good enough for you." He offered Arthur a weak smile, but it faltered when he saw the strange scrutinising glint in his eyes. "And I know you wouldn't wanna be with an O'Driscoll." He began to wander away and Arthur frowned after him. 

"Kieran, where are you goin'?" 

"Relieve myself." Another bathroom excuse, but he couldn't think of anything better as he walked around the other side of the tree, pushing aside the grass with a little difficulty. Shuddering, he sat down in a gap between two roots, burying his face in his knees. Although Arthur had said he didn't hate him, he knew he was just trying to save his feelings. He was pathetic, not just because he was three inches tall, but because he was weak. He was cowardly. He was infinitesimal in the presence of someone like Arthur. He was lost in a tumultuous sea, gripping at sodden wood in the hopes of staying afloat, each piece drifting further the more he reached. 

A rustle to his left caught his attention, and he looked up. His throat tightened around a scream when he saw a fox, the creature larger than an elephant to him, and clearly eager to make a meal of him. Leaping to his feet, he realised with a chill of fright that he was cornered; he was far too weak to even attempt to scale the tree, and he knew the creature could easily follow him.  
"Arthur!" He cried, backing against the bark, squeezing his eyes shut as the fox neared him, closer and closer, ready to rip him apart. 

A wet thud made him flinch, and he peeled open one eye, seeing a throwing knife embedded in the fox's lifeless carcass, square between the eyes. He let go of a breath he didn't realise he was holding, sinking to sit, his body quivering. Arthur pulled the knife out, giving it a wipe on the grass.  
"You really have a habit of attracting trouble. You're good bait though, I'll give you that. This fella will make a good hat." He muttered, lifting the fox to one side and moving to sit beside Kieran. It was akin to sitting beside a building, and the tiny man shivered slightly in the cool of his shadow. "...I've been thinking."

"About ways to kill me?" Kieran asked glumly. 

Arthur looked down at him. "Huh? No! No, Kieran." He chuckled. "I've been thinking that, well… Maybe we could have a go."

Head snapping up, he stared with wide eyes, mouth opening and closing before he spoke. "...At what?" He didn't want to get his hopes up and make a fool of himself. Well, any more than he actually had. 

"You're gonna make me say it…" Arthur groaned. "Look, spending time with you recently, it's been pretty fun. And you must really like me if you told me despite you thinking I'd hurt you for it." He pinched the back of Kieran's coat, making him squeak as he lifted him, his legs dangling. "And the thing is, I've missed having someone." He placed Kieran in his palm, giving him a pat on the back with his fingertip. 

"...you're drunk." Kieran muttered. "You don't know what you're saying."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "If being drunk was a reason not to do something, I'd have stood stock still my whole life. So, how 'bout it?" 

Kieran took a deep breath, resisting the urge to say fuck it and give in to the burning desire in his chest. "I'm small and pathetic. You don't like me, you're just gonna wake up tomorrow and hate me for turnin' you."

The large cowboy shook his head and brought Kieran closer to his face, and he took a breath to keep steady, feeling the heat of his rum-scented breath surround him, blowing his clothes around his tiny body. His lips pursed ever so slightly, as if he was nervous, close enough to touch. Kieran could hardly believe this was happening, Arthur directly in front of him, waiting for him to close the gap between them. He shakily placed both hands on his lower lip, his soft, plush skin giving as he leant close and pressed a kiss to the cusp of his top lip. He smiled a little, pressing his index finger to Kieran's back, hearing his squeak as he sank against his chapped skin. The noise of his kiss was loud enough to make his ears ring but he didn't care, revelling in his entire body being covered with those lips he'd been thinking about for the best part of a month. 

When Arthur pulled away, Kieran found he was slightly damp, and he laughed, standing and leaning against Arthur's nose. He peppered kisses over it, making Arthur giggle drunkenly.  
“Do you wanna go get a hotel room?” Arthur asked softly.

Kieran flushed, stuttering slightly. “F-For… For wh-what?” He asked, taking a step back.

“Nothin’ you don’t want. Just thought it might be nice.” Arthur said, standing up and stumbling a little, his head spinning. He whistled for Bruce, who stopped pawing at a rabbit hole and trotted over, shaking his mane out. Arthur set Kieran on his saddle as he moved to deftly skin the legendary fox, taking a few minutes but eventually slinging the pelt over Bruce’s rump. He then put a hand on the saddle horn, and Kieran stepped toward the front of the saddle so Arthur had room to mount. His face burned as he realised how close he was to his jean-clad crotch, looking up at Arthur. Strong fingers lifted him into his pocket, and he rubbed his cheeks, remembering how the kiss felt as Arthur rode toward Rhodes.

Once they were inside the parlour house, Arthur grabbed a bottle of beer from the bar before stumbling up the stairs while draining it, almost collapsing into the bed. Kieran wormed his way out of his pocket and stood on his chest, grinning up at him like he was the greatest thing on Earth. To Kieran, he was.  
Arthur lifted the tiny man to his face and pressed his lips against him once more, chuckling softly as Kieran squeaked and wriggled. “Arthur, you’re gonna catch whatever it is that made me small!” He warned, but he didn’t push away, laying against his lips as though they were a comfortable sofa, albeit warmer. 

“Ah, I don’t care.” Arthur mumbled, his breath washing over Kieran, his teeth making crackle noises as they moved over his lips. “If I do, I’ll be fine with being small around you.”

“Really?” Kieran couldn’t help his already raging blush deepening. “You trust me that much?”

Arthur shrugged. “More than I trust most of the gang. Besides, y’love me, doncha?” 

“Well, I mean…” He shuffled slightly, pushing Arthur’s hand away so he could lean on his chin. “I like you a lot.” His fingers dipped into the grooves of his chin scars as he kicked his legs against his neck. “But I don’t want you to think just because I love you that you have to treat me different, y’know?” He leant on his arm, sighing to himself. “Like, if you get up tomorrow and realise you don’t actually want me, I don’t wanna have to see you less because you feel weird about it.” It surprised Kieran how the alcohol loosened his tongue, amazed at his own honesty.

Arthur rolled onto his side, and Kieran tumbled onto the pillow with a startled yelp, bouncing once and landing beside Arthur’s eyes. He laid on his side too, looking at his perfect cowboy.  
“You ain’t gotta worry about none of that.” Arthur assured him, his face lined with sincerity. “Even if it don’t work out, you’re still my friend. My family, even. Like ya said, ‘Kieran Van der Linde’!”

He laughed at the name, realising on reflection how silly it sounded, and he saw Arthur’s eyes sparkle when he smiled. He’d seen that look before, fleetingly as he gave Kieran those toffees when he was upset. Seeing it so close up was a delight. “I really do like you, Arthur.” Kieran muttered, placing a hand on the tip of his nose. “I know you think you ain’t worth lovin’, but you are.”

“Don’t know about that, but I ‘ppreciate it.” Propping himself up on his elbow, Arthur gave Kieran an intoxicated smirk. “Now, I got all these lips, so many lips, and they gotta do some kissin’.”

“That don’t make sense!” Kieran chortled as Arthur leant down with a purse of his lips, making an exaggerated kissy noise at him, a chuckle in his throat.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a comment! :)


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